I like The National.

I'm not sure why it is that I wax despicably verbose whenever I'm writing for Amie Street, but I sure seem to. A piece I wrote about The National just got published there, and I realized that although I've been listening to them incessantly for the past few months, I've never bothered to mention them in this space.

So...I've been listening to The National a lot lately.

BTW, now is a great time to give Amie Street a shot if you've been resisting thusfar, as they've recently won deals with some really great labels. Not only can you get all The National's stuff there, but now they've got Interpol, Belle & Sebastian, and a whole bunch of other awesome new arrivals.

Endless Mike and The Beagle Club interview posted at Amie Street

This interview has been in the can for weeks, and I've been dying to share it for just as long, but it was done with Amie Street in mind, and I've had to wait for a few things to fall into place to get it posted. Regardless, I'm extremely excited to point you to it now, because I think Mike really accomplishes something I've been woefully incapable of accomplishing myself: he spells out, rather concisely, some of the things that I love most about this band.

Excerpt below...full text over at Amie Street. While you're over there, why not sign up and download some music?

Amie Street: When you started this band, it was little more than a loose collection of friends. People played what they knew on whatever instrument they could, when their schedules permitted. From then to now, what's changed and what's stayed the same?

Mike Miller: it used to be easier to look at it like it was just one guy's band, meaning me. i guess i was the only one really "in" it at first. everyone else was only in the band while they were playing. now, it makes more sense to say that we're all in it, even when we're not all playing. there are close to 20 of us who do this these days. we don't all play the same show, of course. when we leave for tour on saturday, we'll be a seven piece. but that won't mean that the other thirteen people aren't in the band. they're just not there that night. i don't know exactly when or how that shift was made, but i know that it did, and i can't imagine thinking about it any other way now. but it's still somehow managed to keep it loose enough so that no one feels obligated. to us, it just seems unnatural to have to play in a band the same way you have to go to work or go to school - with a bunch of rules and times and all that stuff. a lot of bands can work that way, but i don't think i could ever do that.

AS: I've heard you say before that The Beagle Club's guiding principle was that anything "uncool" should be avoided at all costs. What effect does consciously avoiding uncool things have on life in a band? Shouldn't every band work the same way?

MM: most bands probably do work that way. but it gets tricky when you think about the fact that there is a difference between "not doing something because it's uncool" and "doing something because it IS cool," you know? and it's just our interpretation of what's "uncool" that we're going by. it's not about pandering or endearing ourselves to someone else's expectations. it's just about a set of principles that i noticed and related to and respected back when i first got into music that mattered to me, especially punk rock.

there's this really weird objective point of view that runs through this band for all of us. it's very strange. there are times when it feels like we're just a bunch of kids having a sing along, like when you'd go to a party and an impromtu "weezer cover band" would start up, just because everyone knows how to play those songs. so, it doesn't even have to be all that much of a conscious decision, honestly. i don't know quite how to say what's "uncool" and what isn't, but i guess it's sort of like the supreme court's definition of pornography: i know it when i see it. we're never ever ever trying to be cool to someone else, just not uncool to ourselves.

AS: Tell us a little bit about Johnstown, PA.

MM: johnstown, pa used to be a big steel city, like most of western PA. it was at one time on a nazi hit list of places to bomb in order to cripple american economy, so it used to be a very big deal in that regard. it's still a city. the mills are still here. they just kind of sit, though. my friend jacob koestler is working on what will be an amazing book of photography about the correlation between that sort of working-class, blue collar ethic that our parents instilled in us and how it still comes into the lives and methods of the artists who work here now. the city was still booming back in the late seventies/early eighties, but all we have to go on is stories we've heard and old run-down buildings. but it's beautiful to me, and to all of us, and it's my favorite place i've ever seen in this world. and good things are happening here as far as art and music goes. there's a new artspace/warehouse opening up, great new bands that truly sound like they're from here are starting to make some really great music, and a lot of the older "scene" kids who moved away for college are coming back now that they're done with school. we all keep joking about what we're calling the "johnstown renassiance," but in all honesty, i think we're all only kind of kidding. things feel good around here, even though it's starting to get cold at nights again.

AS: What are some of the less obvious difficulties of a DIY approach to rock and roll?

MM: i honestly believe that the DIY approach is the only way to do it. nothing else makes sense. the difficulties that come to mind right away are things like filling in every date of a tour, getting time off of work and still having enough money to do whatever you have to do, having a van that works, getting gas money for show to show transports, all stuff that wouldn't be difficult with a big label, or a big hype machine, or a booking agent. all that "uncool" stuff, really! but i love every part of it and i wouldn't want it any other way and i honestly don't think it's all that difficult. it just is what it is, i guess.

AS: What is the single most rewarding thing about being in THIS band?

MM: for me, the most rewarding thing about it is just how naturally and easily it all comes together. we never practice, but we always sound perfect to me. and when we write songs, they come together pretty quickly, like it's just what it sounds like whenever this group of people make music, without even trying to make it sound like anything in particular. it works that way when i write the words, too, like it just comes easily at this point. it makes me feel like it's what i'm supposed to be doing as an artist, like i've finally found a voice and a place, and that's the most rewarding thing i can think of, period. sometimes it seems like everything in society is working against the people who have to live in it. like money and government and work and all that is doing everything it can to keep someone from finding their voice or finding their place. so it's pretty rewarding to have something that makes you feel like you beat the system in some small way. small to anyone else, that is. to us, it's the whole world. and that's what music was to me when i first started to get into it, and that's even more the case for me these days.

Interview: Adam King (False Heroics) at Amie Street

About a month ago I wrote a review of a record called The Salvation Navy for Amie Street. The band behind the album is False Heroics, from Brantford, Ontario. The sound is close-to-radio-ready pop-punk, with a few unexpected twists and turns. Think Something Corporate, only with less piano, less recording budget, and a shit-ton more social conscience. Right up one of my alleys, I guess you could say. You can stream my favorite song "Separatatat" (or, a decent sample of it) from that box in the corner. Of course, the whole album is available at Amie Street and you can sample some more songs at MySpace.

But what really piqued my interest in the band was their story. So when I found this website for frontman Adam King's recent campaign municipal office, I got in touch. Over the last month or so, we've been conducting an interview via Google Docs. It's not a month-long interview, but he's a busy guy (you'll see), so it took that long.

In Adam's own words, the band's history:

Amie Street: Earlier this year you released False Heroics' first full length: The Salvation Navy. For the uninitiated, can you give us a brief history of the band from inception to first LP?

Adam King (False Heroics): I was in Grade 13 at a high school in Brantford, and really hadn't been back in Canada very long when Jon (drummer) and I started jamming. I think Jared (bass) and Mike (guitar) heard us perform at a coffeehouse, and afterwards ended up quitting the band they were in to join Jon and I. It was quite the scandal. The lead singer from their old band had a bit of a grudge against me for it, I think. Maybe still does. I hope not though...

Anyway, we were called Pure Nard, of all things, when we started. (Now the name of the little record label I run.) We played a bunch of all ages shows in gyms, church basements and such before finally changing our name to the False Heroics and putting out the Stars Gone Black EP in 2003. We did a couple tours--one around Ontario, another out through Quebec and the Canadian East Coast and it felt like we were starting to pick up some momentum; getting CD orders coming in from all over and playing a lot of shows.

But then, just as we were getting ready to record the album that would become The Salvation Navy, Mike was diagnosed with germ cell cancer. It was pretty advanced--all through his body. So, False Heroics went into hiatus while he was going through chemotherapy, and we just kept slowly working at the album as we had the chance. Mind you, tons was going on. We were doing post-secondary degrees, Jared got married; I ran for Canadian parliament and got married, then ran for city council in Brantford as well; Jon became a professional photographer while we weren't looking. It's hard to keep track of everything. Eventually, Mike's cancer went into remission, and we started back at the band, finished off the record and started playing shows again. That basically brings us up to the present.

There's more on the band and the music in the full interview at Amie Street. Not to mention a brief account of a childhood in Bangladesh (Adam's parents were missionaries) and some insight into Adam's political motivations.

Interview: Drew & the Medicinal Pen over at Amie Street

Here's an excerpt from an interview I did with Drew & the Medicinal Pen that's posted in full over at Amie Street. You can buy his record there for cheap.

Amie Street: You're a jack of many trades. How do you spend your time when you're not playing guitar?

Drew: I like keeping busy with other crafty stuff, working on tape machines, silkscreening, drawing, writing, keeping up with my dream-logues, painting on walls, eating cereal and making booby traps... etc. When I'm not playing I'm working for Rooftop Films, and talking my way into other odd jobs.

AS: What's with the dead TV's?

D: I guess the Dead TV has officially become my unofficial logo over the years. I started doing graffiti when I was a kid, and it's just something that I kept drawing. I suppose the reason it's stuck is that it's got that DIY, anti-consumerism, get-up-and-do-something mentality behind it that seems to tie in to my music.

AS: I've started noticing a bunch of them around town. How many do you think you've done in total?

D: I guess it would be high in the hundreds? I don't know. I just go nuts sometimes and feel like running around the city climbing on things and painting them.

AS: Tell me about the xylophone from Sam Ash.

D: Right the xylophone... I was on a pretty tight budget recording dream, dream, fail, repeat, and there was a song that absolutely had to have xylophone, and my Muppet Babies xylophone was pretty cool but not really doing the trick. So I went to Sam Ash and bought this beautiful one with a nice hard-shell rolling case and everything for something crazy like $400. I laid down the track in the studio that night and returned it the next day. I think I told the guy it sounded too "metal-y."

Read the rest at Amie Street.

Amie Street gets funding from Amazon

It's been announced today that music-store-slash-social-network Amie Street has closed its Series A funding with Amazon leading the investing.

As it's been explained to me, this has nothing to do with Amazon's own eventual entry into the digital music retail space. The belief is that there will be more than one winner in the digital music future, Amie Street and Amazon hit different demographics, and Amie Street's unique model positions them well for success.

There are some social networking aspects to the service (befriend other users, etc.) but at its heart Amie Street really hinges on two concepts:

1. The users of the site determine the price of a song by purchasing it. Each song begins at $.00 and inches up towards $.98 as more people purchase and "REC" it. Artists get 70% of the revenue after Amie Street recoups $5/song.
2. After a user has RECed a song, they can cash out their REC at any time for a credit equal to the difference between the current price and the price they RECed it at. So if I like a song and REC it at $.08 and it goes up to $.50, I can earn myself $.42 of credit to buy more music. Users get a limited number of RECs when they purchase credit.

As far as what's on there, a lot of it is music uploaded by artists themselves, so some of it's great (The Seedy Seeds) and some of it isn't. Some forward-thinking labels (Nettwerk, notably) have been playing ball as well, so marquis names like The Format are starting to pop up.

AND THERE IS NO DRM.

I've thought it's a cool idea since I started using the site last year, but nobody really cares what I think. Amazon's endorsement, however, that's a pretty big deal. Things are looking up for the fledgling service.

[amiestreet.com]

Disclosure: I've recently been doing a bit of work for Amie Street...mostly writing reviews.